AU2A: Through the Looking Glass REDUX
by Lilac Reverie
Summary: Revamped story, from the Yes She Could file. Please see intro!
1. Reflections

**Through the Looking Glass REDUX**

_**Author's Note: **_In the Intro to Through the Looking Glass, I wrote: _"OK, I confess: some days I believe that Rose could forget the Doctor and move on, to a happy, full, wonderful life in the alternate universe with his part-human twin. Other days: not so much. This story is from the Not So Much file."_

Just for the hell of it, I've decided to rewrite this entire story for the Yes She Could file_. _I doubt there will be any big surprises herein for those who read the other version, but you never know what my twisted mind will come up with.

Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all its characters are the property of the BBC, without whose amazing, continuing generosity in allowing us fans to borrow them for our bits of mental floss we would be bereft... utterly bereft. (Is that thick enough?)

A note: as of this writing, I still haven't seen the eleventh doctor, except in those flashing trailers, so my attempts at his personality and appearance would doubtless be way, way off. So I'm not even going to try. Let's just pretend that this is a future, as-yet-unseen Doctor, perhaps 12 or 13. ===UPDATE, Dec 2013: Peter Capaldi was recently announced as the 12th Doctor, although I haven't seen him in the role yet - but from the publicity pictures, and memories of him in _Fires of Pompei_, I may not have been that far off at that (except for the wardrobe, of course). *smiles mysteriously*

Enough intro. _Allons-y!_

* * *

**Reflections**

It had been a long, hard, wonderful, painful five years. Years of love and regret, of laughter and tears, of joining and parting, of discovery and forgetting – or at least, trying to forget. Five years since the Doctor had left Rose and Corin on the beach at Bad Wolf Bay in the alternate universe they still called Pete's World, to try to build new lives together from scratch.

Some days went better than others.

Jackie and Pete had invited the new couple to move into the mansion with them after their son Tyler was born, just nine and a half months after they arrived. There was plenty of room, after all. Corin had surprised Rose with how receptive he had been to the invitation, but then he reminded her of the part of the story in the rocks she had forgotten – that Gallifreyan first-borns brought their spouses into their family's House; large, multi-generational families under one roof were the rule. Besides, he said, he had an idea. And soon after they moved in, he began (with Pete's laughing permission) to build that idea, by hand: a small one-room summer cottage out under the huge old weeping willow by the pond, that reminded Corin so strongly of the trees on Gallifrey that he had been named for. Over the succeeding years, the cottage had slowly grown like a honeysuckle vine, first sprouting a porch, then a deck on top, then, with ladders and ropes and platforms and small rooms, it was creeping up into the willow itself. Rose suspected that before too many more years went by, it would resemble nothing so much as the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse.

But it kept him happy. And he'd had enough disappointments elsewhere in his life. He'd had trouble adjusting to life on the slow path, after nine hundred years of constant travel and adventure. Just waking up in the same room in the same house that you had woken up in the previous one thousand days, and would continue to wake up in for the next several tens of thousands, took some getting used to. So did not being able to change the look of said room with the wave of the sonic screwdriver, or the layout or size of the house, or its setting. So did starting long-term projects and continuing to work on them, bit by bit, for the weeks or months or years that it would take to get them to completion.

His biggest disappointment had been the TARDIS coral. The combination of lack of suitable materials, some missing spots in his own knowledge, and – possibly – simply the change in universe and its frequencies, had resulted in a coral that stubbornly refused to grow at any rate, let alone Donna's promised 59x. It wasn't dead, but it wasn't growing. After several fruitless, supremely frustrating years, Corin had given up, and buried it within its protective shell underneath the floor in the summer house. He'd dig it up again if he ever managed to come up with some of the answers – if they ever fell to Earth in some visiting alien starship wreckage.

His biggest joy, of course, was Rose herself, followed closely by Tyler and, after a four-year gap, baby Donna. The gap had been long enough that they had begun to worry, but then, a long second honeymoon in Bora Bora had seemed to solve a number of problems, bringing them closer together than they had been since the wedding, and within a few months Rose was pregnant again.

Of course, Corin wasn't the only one who had struggled. Rose had been engaged in a long war with herself, as well. For those first nine months, she'd run on pure willpower, forcing herself to move on, forget the Doctor, concentrate on Corin, build their new life, run Torchwood, make a baby, make a home, move on, forget. To live fully the words she'd told her mother on her wedding day:

"Mum, Corin _is_ the Doctor – all the best parts of him. And more. His new human side made him... accessible. And mine. The alien part, the part I could never reach, never hold, never understand – that's the part that left. The best parts stayed. The best _man_ stayed, like I said on the plane. Yes, Mum, I'm sure. I'm more sure of Corin – of me and Corin – than I have ever been of anything."

Just a little bit easier said than done.

It had all come crashing down around her when Tyler was born; she'd plummeted into several months of severe post-partum depression, when the world that had seemed so bright and shiny and full of possibility just nine months before turned bleak and black. That was when Jackie had prevailed upon the couple to come "home" to the mansion, so she could help take care of both Rose and Tyler. Corin had gained a whole new appreciation for his mother-in-law during those difficult months, and they had come to an easy friendship at last. (Donna's birth, four years later, had been easier in some respects; shorter, anyway. The possibility of the PPD returning loomed large, but they were forewarned, and were able to minimize it and stave off the worst.)

Slowly, slowly, with the help of an excellent therapist and some well-chosen medications, and the enduring love of her husband and parents, Rose came back to life, and was even able to resume working at Torchwood before Tyler turned a year old. Capable Brennan had filled in ably for her, but he didn't quite have her spark, her imagination – or her talent for management. Torchwood was Rose's creation in this world, and after her return began to blossom again, sparking off ideas and products from the detritus of alien visits enough to warrant the creation of a commercial enterprise to produce and market them. Torchwood was now self-supporting, if still very secretive, and all were glad to be free of the yoke of government oversight.

Rose herself, though, was changed. Though she and Corin had never lost their telepathic life bond, and after she crawled back up out of the depression they were able to resurrect the closeness and love they'd known during their first heady honeymoon period, there was a part of her he was never able to touch. Doors within her memory remained closed and locked to him. Not that he ever tried – he was absolutely faithful to the promise he'd made to never force open a mental door she'd closed. Besides, he didn't want or need to see beyond them – he knew whose face would be there. His, but not his.

He'd changed, as well, he knew. He wasn't the same man he'd been in the TARDIS. Not only had the previous five years done their work on him, but Donna's influence also showed at times. But wasn't that the point of a marriage? To accept changes and make the constant adjustments needed, to love and honor your partner always? Despite everything, they both felt deep inside that they had a strong marriage, stronger than most – the Time Lord life bond only served to enhance and strengthen what was already there. There was never any question – never had been – that they loved each other deeply. There was just that hint of shadow at times.

Nonetheless, they'd made it five years. And for some reason, that number seemed significant, a milestone, and they'd made some plans to celebrate it appropriately.

The entire family, plus all of Torchwood and many from PTI, had celebrated the anniversary the day before, on Friday, with a huge, rollicking party in the new exclusive restaurant atop the PTI Building. Corin was able to spring his surprise on Rose, making quite a production of unveiling his gift: a life-size, full-length portrait of the two of them, painted by the current reigning portrait master, René Douchant, from one of the formal photographs they'd had taken the previous year before their Bora Bora tans had faded. Corin, wearing his trademark grey pinstripe suit, had been seated in a wing-back rattan chair, with Rose standing to one side, one hand on his shoulder, the other holding a single rose. He'd talked her into wearing her wedding dress for the shots, and the rose-and-lace confection gave the portrait a timeless air. M. Douchant had even managed to paint the lace so vividly that the viewer could almost see the knots.

Now, on the day itself, the portrait had been hung in the hall downstairs, opposite one done several years before of Pete and Jackie. The four adults had taken the three children for a day at the zoo, with an elaborate picnic lunch in the park, and now Corin and Rose were going out for a romantic candlelit dinner and dancing at their favorite spot overlooking the river.

There had been a strange little incident that morning: as they were getting dressed to leave for the zoo, suddenly Jackie had screamed from down the hall. Rose and Corin had run to that end of the house, finding the older couple in the hallway, Pete calming an obviously-disturbed Jackie.

"I thought I saw a man standing behind me in the mirror, but when I turned, he was gone!" she cried.

"I was just coming down the hall; there wasn't anyone there!" Pete soothed her. "It must have just been a trick of the light." He didn't seem quite positive, though. When Corin pressed him, he admitted that he'd thought he'd seen someone over his own shoulder when he glanced in the big mirror in the hall downstairs earlier that morning, but had found nobody, and all the windows and doors had still been locked.

Corin felt a twinge of unease, but there was nothing to be done. "Just a trick of the light!", he agreed, and everyone went back to finish getting ready.

Now, as the evening shadows drew in, and the kids had all been put to bed, Corin watched Rose slip into something silky and sexy (_funny how those two words can describe everything from evening dress to nightgowns_, _especially when Rose wears them_ he thought) as he decided which suit to wear for their evening out. She sat down at her dressing table, sideways, laughing at some silly thing he'd said, and picked up her brush to offer him – she loved having him brush out her hair. As he crossed to take it, she turned in her seat towards the mirror to watch him.

And froze. Her face blanched dead white, and she dropped the brush to the floor and _screamed._


	2. Shards

**Shards**

Rose's terrified scream as she looked into her dressing table mirror shocked Corin into immobility, two steps away, hand outstretched for the hairbrush she had dropped. She whirled around, looking wildly behind her towards the hallway door, then back to Corin, then back to the mirror – and screamed again, her hands flying to her mouth, utterly unlike any reaction he had _ever_ seen her give.

The second scream seemed to jar him loose again, and he lunged forwards, dropping to his knees beside her, searching the mirror for the source of her terror. And damn near shouted in alarm, glancing involuntarily towards the door. There was nothing there. But in the mirror....

… stood a strange man, dressed in a blue-and-white rugby shirt over crisp blue jeans, and a long black overcoat. He stared at Rose, longing burning through his piercing blue eyes, then seemed to notice Corin. Turning towards him swiftly in startled recognition, he silently mouthed "help me", and another word, then.... he seemed to melt silently through the door into the hallway, just as Pete burst through it, with Jackie on his heels.

Corin fought the urge to run to the door, knowing there wouldn't be anyone there, or Pete would have tackled him. Rose turned wildly to him, clutching at him. "Corin... who... how..." came her terrified whimper.

"You saw him?" Jackie caught on quick. "You saw the man in the mirror? I _wasn't_ imagining it?"

Corin shook his head. "No, you weren't. Neither of you. Someone's been stuck in the mirrors." The back of his mind was frantically trying to tell him something else, some clue, but it wasn't coming clear. "It was a punishment I used once, though I'd heard of it being used before. I put someone into the mirrors – she's just a reflection, one you might catch a glimpse of out of the corner of your eye, but when you look, there's nothing there. Just like you both did, this morning."

Rose was still clutching his collar, staring into his face, trying to find some sense of normalcy. "That was a hell of a lot more than just a glimpse. He was trying to tell us something! What did he say?" She shivered, trying to shake off the memory of those eyes burning through her. She almost felt as though she should recognize him, but she knew she'd never seen him before.

Corin replayed his mental tape. "He said 'help me', and then....." Reading the man's lips again in memory, he felt an icy wind blow down his back. "He said.... Rose, he used my true name." He stared at her, horrified. Who _was_ he? There was only one possible answer.

"My god. It's _him...._ It's the Doctor. He's been put into the mirrors. He's in all mirrors, everywhere. But how did he get into this universe?"

Rose began shaking her head, and continued, wildly, as if she could somehow send the nightmare away. "No... no... I can't do this. I can't go through this again. I can't.... I _can't_...." She pushed him back, head still shaking. She caught a glimpse of the dressing table mirror again, and flinched away, though it was still empty of anything that shouldn't be there. Stumbling to her feet, she turned away to see the large mirror on the wall, and then further, the mirror in the bathroom through the door, and all of them were empty, threateningly so, because _he_ could sidle around the frame at any second. Still shaking her head, she stumbled into the hall, past Pete and Jackie clutching at her, then began running, down the stairs, past other mirrors. _Oh, God, why do we have so many fucking mirrors?_ And finally out the door onto the back terrace, scooting to the concrete wall to fold over it and lose her dinner on the other side.

She hung over the wall for several long moments, retching. Corin came up behind her and slid one arm around her middle, placing his other hand on her forehead to support it. When her stomach was empty, she collapsed, and he gathered her up again, turning her into his chest. Gasping and shaking uncontrollably, she snaked her arms around his waist and held on. Pete and Jackie came silently out the door behind them, worried, waiting for answers.

They stood together for several minutes, till Rose gained some control, then she pulled back slightly to ask, "Are you sure it's _him?_"

"There's no-one else it could be. I've never, _ever_ told anyone my true name, except for you." _River knew it, but that was definitely not River, and I hadn't told her yet._ "No, it's him."

She closed her eyes, and started to shake her head again. "I can't do this.... Why can't he leave us the fuck _alone?_" _I've tried so hard to move on. I can't go back. I can't rip off the scabs like this. Go __away__, damn you!!!!!_

He cradled her close again, wordlessly. There was nothing he could say.

And then they heard it: the unmistakable _whoosh_ of the TARDIS, coming from the copse of beech trees off to one side of the house. Rose began to cry, softly, as Jackie whispered "that's his ship!" to her husband, who'd never heard that sound before. Corin simply stood, waiting, excitement and dread warring in his single heart.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadowy figure walk slowly out of the copse and pause at the edge of the terrace, with another, slightly larger, lurking behind. "Well, come on out; we know you're there," he said wearily. He turned towards the figure as it came along the path below the wall, and froze, shocked for the second time that night into unthinking immobility.

"Hello, Dad," said Jenny.


	3. Slivers - Looking

**Slivers - Looking**

_flick_ young boy brushing his teeth _flick_ old woman softly crying _flick_ businessman adjusting his tie _flick_ young woman smiling _flick_ two girls giggling _flick_ someone rushing by the door _flick_ old man gazing thoughtfully _flick_ young man slicking back his hair _flick_ teenage girl doing her makeup _flick_ bleached blonde woman laughing _flick_ large crowd in some public room _flick_ young mother yelling at her kids _flick_ middle-aged woman sighing dreamily _flick_ young man putting on his jacket _flick_ bald man combing his six hairs over _flick_ teenage girl doing her nails _flick_ man on toilet reading the newspaper _flick_ empty hallway _flick_

He was a zillion tiny, atomic slivers of consciousness, without thought, without volition, flicking endlessly, instantly, from window to window, looking _flick_ look _flick_ look _flick_ _flick _a zillion windows all at once _flick_ _flick_ _flick_

_flick_ young black man walking out the door _flick_ young woman smiling dreamily _flick_ old man glaring angrily _flick_ redhead twins giggling _flick_ teenager morosely picking at his face _flick_ businesswoman adjusting her suit jacket _flick_ mother scolding her teenage daughter _flick_ elderly couple smiling at each other _flick_ towhead toddler brushing his teeth _flick_ young couple making out on the couch _flick_ busy restaurant at lunchtime _flick_ tall fifty-ish man adjusting his tie in front of a large portrait …. …. ….

The sliver paused for just a moment – a single tiny instant that stretched to the mental horizon, staring at the portrait. A man, seated, a woman, standing... the man, so familiar... the woman... her eyes... faintly, so faintly, an echo of a ghost of a memory of a name floated on the air... _Rose... flick_ _flick_ _flick_

_flick_ boy playing with a dog _flick_ woman fixing her lipstick _flick_ teenage girl yelling at her mum _flick_ Shakespearean actor practicing his lines _flick_ bank lobby, mostly empty _flick_ cleaning lady wiping the sink _flick_ shabby businessman fiddling with his hair _flick_ nervous teenager fiddling with his hair _flick_ tabby cat staring fixedly _flick_ _flick_ _flick_

The sliver paused as the echo came again... _Rose... flick_ _flick_ a hundred flicks later, it stopped again, remembering the portrait. _Rose..._ The sliver *turned* and began to search for the portrait again, flicking even faster through the windows _flick_ _flick_ _flick_

A thousand windows away, another sliver heard the echo. _Rose..._ It paused, and then *turned*, searching for the source of the echo.

And another sliver did the same. And another, and another, and another...


	4. A Cuppa Glass

**A Cuppa Glass**

Corin stared, unbelieving, at the young woman beyond the terrace wall. _"Jenny?!"_ Feeling his reaction as well as hearing it, Rose stifled her quiet sobs and turned to look, stunned. She knew who Jenny was; he'd relived her brief life during their LifeDreaming. He went on, "But... you _died..._"

Jenny smiled and gave an apologetic shrug. "I'm a Time Lord. You left too soon. Just after that, I …. woke up. Decided I didn't want to spend the rest of eternity on that rock, so I stole the captain's shuttle and took off. Ran into the Doctor again a few years later, and we've been traveling together since."

At the mention of the Doctor, both Corin and Rose glanced at the man walking up behind Jenny; a handsome fifty-ish gentleman dressed in a well-made black suit, carrying a small, flat wooden box, a delighted smile threatening to break out on his open face. Jenny, though, shook her head: "No, that's not him. This is... a temporary companion."

Corin turned back to Jenny, getting to the point. "All right, then. How did you get into this universe... and what is the Doctor doing in our mirrors?"

Curiously, at his second question, Jenny seemed to relax a bit, and gave a small, relieved smile. "I was right." She took a deep breath, and looked up at them again. "It's... a long story. May we come in?"

"I've a feeling you'd better." He turned slightly and waved them up the steps and towards the door.

Jackie, ever the gracious hostess, said "Let's go into the kitchen, I'll make us some tea. I've a feeling it's going to be a long night."

As Jackie puttered around making tea, Corin introduced Jenny to her and Pete, giving the brief rundown on her life as he had known it. They sat down around the kitchen table, and then Corin turned to the gentleman with a questioning look.

He smiled, broadly. "I'm... your descendent, sir. Ma'am. John Gallifrey – the eleventh Lord Gallifrey." At his hosts' immediate looks of astonishment, he turned to Jenny. "Oops. I shouldn't have said that, should I?"

She gave a small laugh. "Too late now!"

Corin just shook his head. "I'm just going to forget you said that. There's too much going on." He turned to Jenny and spread his hands, giving her the floor.

"We – Dad and I – broke through into this universe in John's time period – not quite three hundred years from now. Landed just out back there, in the garden. We were chasing a pair of Sontaran warriors – dumb kids, actually – playing around with some ancient wreckage they'd found. Part of it was some kind of transmat device – they'd made several jumps around, wreaking a bit of havoc with the timeline, then suddenly... they broke through to here."

Corin was shaking his head again. "That's... not possible. And it's entirely too much coincidence that they.. and you.. landed here, in our own backyard. I'm not buying it."

"Well, apparently, the wreckage they'd found must have been of Time Lord origin. And when it made that jump, it locked onto something here – something out in the back yard? Something you have – or had?"

Suddenly, it clicked. "The TARDIS coral!" He explained how the Doctor had tossed him the bit of coral on the beach, to grow their own TARDIS. "It's buried out there under the summer house." He looked at Rose, astonished. "Something must have happened up ahead that... turned it on.. and it sent out a signal back to the other universe."

Jenny took it up again. "And our own TARDIS locked onto it, as well as the Sontaran's wreck. We'd no idea, though, where we were – didn't even realize we'd hopped universes. So... When we landed, we heard them crashing about inside the house, and went inside to catch them. And then... he ran right into your portrait."

John put in, "It's still hanging in the hallway in my time. Well, you are the family founders, after all!"

Jenny, again: "He just stopped cold, staring at it. Just frozen. Then he turned and ran out the door, jumped into the TARDIS and disappeared for almost an hour. John was just coming down the stairs when he ran out; together he and I managed to corner the Sontarans in the dining room, and we started figuring out where we were and where we'd come from, respectively." She grimaced for the confused telling, but Corin and Rose, at least, just nodded – they'd been in enough situations like that to keep up.

"Well, when Dad came back in a bit later, all hell broke loose again. The Sontarans jumped us when we were distracted, there was a skirmish, and they got their guns back, grabbed Dad and dragged him upstairs - he still seemed too shaken up to react - and the next thing I knew they were putting him into a mirror. They thought it was hilarious. Then they just left for town, figuring John and I were no threat."

Rose had been following the conversation silently, still only half-believing it was happening. "So why is he here, now? Why back here?"

Jenny looked at her for a long moment, and finally said, quietly, "I think he's trying to find you."

Rose shook her head. "Why?" Afraid to know the answer, but it had to be asked. After another moment of silence, she asked, "What aren't you telling us?"

Jenny took a deep breath. "I don't think he's ever really gotten over you." She shook her head. "He's been alive for hundreds of years, traveling all that time. The stars only know how many companions he's had, before you and after. But of all of them, yours is the only name I know. You're the only one he talks about. Not constantly, not even a lot. Hardly ever, in fact. But you're _there_. And nobody else is."

She took another breath, and leaned forward, talking now to both Corin and Rose. "Look, I don't know everything that happened before I joined him again. All I have is hints he's dropped, and the TARDIS records – and she can only tell me what happened inside her, or right outside – so I know how you were born, and how you all came to be here in this universe. Beyond that... I know that something terrible happened soon after that. Something... devastating. And then... " She stopped for a moment, then went on. "Well, he regenerated, but he's never quite been the same as I knew him – you – back then."

Corin said, quietly, "Well, a Time Lord does change when he regenerates. New body, new look, new personality. But events do influence that, too." A beat. "How did you meet up again?"

"Pure coincidence. I was about fifteen years old, had done a bunch of traveling in my little ship, and then it broke down on me midflight. I sent out a mayday, and the TARDIS is the one who answered."

He replied, thoughtfully, "I doubt that was entirely a coincidence. The TARDIS has a way of... reaching out and finding people. It probably remembered you from your birth, and picked up on your mayday. It is alive, after all. Anyway – go on."

"That's about all there is. After the Sontarans left, we looked in all the mirrors for Dad, but he wasn't there. He was already gone. Then John remembered your journal."

Corin was startled. "_My_ journal? _You_ have it, three hundred years from now?"

John nodded. "Passed down – in secret – from father to son."

"And I'm going to write about tonight, I take it?"

Another nod. "It's a short little entry, very enigmatic. A mystery left for future generations to solve. And I must say, I'm quite cranked to be the one to get to solve it." He grinned, then quickly returned to the subject. "You write: 'September eighteenth, 7:30 pm.'"

Almost involuntarily, they all turned to look at the clock on the wall. 7:50 pm. Corin said to Jenny, approvingly, "You're good!", then motioned John to continue.

He spoke slowly, with quiet emphasis, his voice capitalizing the words. "'The Night of the Miracle. The Doctor was in the mirror, and the travelers from the future returned to set him free. The circles were closed, the wounds were healed, and all returned to their lives with contented hearts.'"

They sat in silence again, each wondering how in the world that outcome could come from the current situation. Rose asked John, "Are you sure it's his handwriting?"

"Yes." He paused, looking at Jenny for permission, and she nodded. He'd brought it, after all. He picked up the flat polished wooden box he'd been holding on his lap, thumbed the latch and opened it, revealing a very old, very thick leather-bound book. He grinned at Corin. "Your grandson, I believe, is the one who rebound the several volumes into one, and had the box made, as well." He opened the book carefully at the faded blue ribbon, and turned it so Corin and Rose could read the writing there.

"Yes," said Corin after a moment's consideration. "That's my writing." His finger hovered above the page, not touching it, pointing to the entry before. "And I just wrote that last night." He looked at John again. "Is anything ever mentioned about tonight again?"

"No," came the reply. "The only odd thing is how you left the rest of this page blank afterwards. This is the only time you do that, ever, except for the end of each year."

Another silence, then Rose broke it again, saying softly, "I don't see how you can heal wounds by ripping off the scars."

John looked at her, sympathy etched on his face, and answered as softly. "If I may, my lady, sometimes when the wound fails to heal properly the first time, the only thing one can do is to reopen it, clean it out, and start the healing again."

He'd spoken so kindly that the tears that had been threatening all evening pricked her eyes again, and she closed them tightly, then reached for Corin's hand, needing his comfort. She'd kept a barrier up in her mind ever since the Doctor had appeared in the mirror, not wanting Corin to see her reactions. Now she dropped it, and tentatively, apologetically reached for his mind, finding he mirrored the same shock, pain, and fearful wariness at the course the night seemed to be taking.

He looked at her when he felt her hand and mind, and squeezed her hand back, trying to find some reassurance to send her. They gave each other a small, sad smile for the effort, and then asked and answered the question before them.

"Well," she finally said, "I certainly don't want to spend the rest of my life with _him_ in my mirrors, watching me."

"Nope," he answered, simply. He turned to Jenny. "I sure hope you have a plan for getting him out, though, because to be honest, I have absolutely no idea how to do it."


	5. Slivers - Listening

**Slivers - Listening**

_flick_ young woman brushing her hair _flick_ two dogs playing _flick_ old woman petting a cat _flick_ gilded hallway of a museum _flick_ _Rose..._ _flick_ young man peering into a small car window _flick_ ragged bum glancing at his face, glancing away _flick_ firefighter shaving _flick_ empty bathroom stalls, heels clicking out the door _flick_ _Rose... flick_ _flick_ _flick_

_flick_ older man and young woman walking in front of a painting... Another sliver had found the portrait. It paused, listening. Then it *turned* and began following the portrait back in time, searching for it knew not what. A hundred thousand flicks later, another sliver did the same. And another, and another, and another...

_flick_ empty hallway _flick_ boy kicking a football _flick_ woman fixing her hair _flick_ tile falling off the wall in a public restroom _flick_ businessman glancing at himself racing past _flick_ girl brushing her teeth _flick_ _flick_ _flick_

A sliver paused, listening for the echo, and heard something else. A voice... _her _voice... calling to him, so faint, so far... across a million years, across a billion stars, through the empty voids between atoms, across the whole of existence, she called to him... _Find me, Doctor... Find me..._

The sliver *turned*, and began to follow the call.

And another sliver heard the call, and did the same. And another, and another, and another...


	6. Hairline Fractures

_**Hairline Fractures**_

Sitting around the high kitchen table, passing around the teapot to refresh their cups, Corin asked Jenny. "_Do_ you have any ideas for getting the Doctor out?"

She nodded. "A few. I need to run them by you, though. But first, please tell me: is there one particular mirror that you've seen him in most clearly, or most often?"

Rose answered. "Yes. My dressing table." A beat. "And you're not surprised."

Jenny shook her head. "No, but not for the reason you think. I'll come back to that in a bit." She turned to Corin. "OK. First of all, I'm under the impression that he's not... in one piece. That when they put him in the mirrors, he was shattered into lord only knows how many bits, and those bits were scattered everywhere. Is that right?"

Corin considered that for a while, then slowly began to nod. "I'm not at all certain, but I think you're right." He sighed. "Shit. That means we have to get all – or at least most – of him _here_ before we can even think of getting him out. I suppose you have an idea for that?"

Jenny smiled. "He's searching for Rose. And you, probably. All of him is. So we give him a hand, and show him the way. We light up a beacon."

^..^

After inspecting the front hall, where the portrait was hung, Jenny declared it to be the perfect spot for the beacon. She asked Corin and Pete to bring the dressing table down to the foot of the stairs, and then placed a small coin made from gallinium on the floor opposite the portrait for the TARDIS to home in on. A few minutes later, the TARDIS _whooshed_ into place in the hall, and Jenny opened both doors, turning the ambient light inside down as far as it would go. "Can we turn these lights down, too?" So Jackie flicked them off, and opened the drapes to let in the moonlight – the full moon provided ample illumination as it bounced off the shining tile.

("Why can't we do it _in_ the TARDIS?" Corin had asked her earlier. "Because he can't seem to see it – it's like a blind spot. Take a mirror outside, he's in it. Back inside, nope. So the TARDIS has to be _part_ of the beacon, but it can't contain it.")

Jenny nodded approvingly at the shawl Corin had draped over the mirror, and asked that the one on the wall (which everyone had been studiously avoiding) be covered, as well. Then, asking everyone to sit on the steps or stand back out of the way, she went back into the TARDIS and picked up something she'd left inside – a coil of what appeared to be very fine, braided wire. She attached one end to the coral pillar inside the left-hand door, and then slowly walked backwards around the room, playing out the wire, looping it around behind the dressing table, then the portrait, and then, leaving a wide space opposite the table, walked back to the TARDIS and attached the other end to the pillar behind the other door.

Pete peered at the "wire" on the floor near his foot. "That looks like human hair!"

Jenny shrugged. "Yeah, well, it'll grow back." Corin looked at her, curious, then mentally homed in on her _very_ short hairstyle. He glanced at John, who nodded, and then made braiding motions with his hands. Jenny added, "That's most of why it took us so long to get here."

Corin had been thinking hard. "The only reason you'd need your hair for the perimeter is to make a paradox field. And I don't see any paradoxes yet."

"Yet." smiled Jenny, and she motioned John to help her. They walked into the TARDIS, and came back out carrying – another dressing table. Which looked suspiciously familiar, even with the blanket over the mirror. They carried it over to the open spot, and set it down facing Rose's table.

"Yes," she went on, to their questioning eyes. "It's the exact same table. Most importantly, it's the mirror that he was put into up ahead. The _exact same one. _So it now contains the tiniest memory of his reflection from that transference, a bit of himself left behind in that specific sheet of glass._ That's_ why he appeared in hers now – he was drawn to it especially."

Corin whistled, but then said, "But objects don't make paradoxes."

Another smile. "But their reflections do. We've lined them up so they'll reflect each other, and whatever is between them. _That's_ the paradox."

Corin grinned. "Bloody brilliant!" And while Jackie pulled a chair out of the dining room to put in the middle of the beacon, he went to get Rose.

^..^

Rose had gone up to check that the children were still safely asleep, and now was huddled in the overstuffed chair in the darkened nursery, a tight little ball of misery and anxiety. _I don't want to do this. I don't want to see him again. I've been beating my brains out for five bloody years trying to forget him and move on, and now this happens. And I can't just sit back and let things happen, noooooo, I've got to actively DO something. I have to call him, get him here. Right here, in my home, in OUR home, the LAST place I want him to be. How can I call him here if I don't want to?_

She paused, thinking of the image she'd seen earlier. _He's changed. He's regenerated. That's not the Doctor I knew, he's somebody different. He's moved on._ Jenny's words came back to her, though: "I don't think he's ever really gotten over you... You're _there_. And nobody else is." _Well, tough shit, Doctor! You're the one who went off and left ME!_

But a tiny voice inside asked _and if he came back today, wearing the same face, and held out his hand, would you stay or go?_

_That doesn't count! He DOESN'T have the same face! He's NOT the same man!_

_If it doesn't count, then why are you so upset? Besides, you adjusted to a change of face before, why not again? He's still handsome..._ The image of piercing blue eyes under curly black hair floated before her again, staring longingly at her. _And he's still the Doctor. With the TARDIS. With the freedom to explore every corner of the universe, in every time..._

She couldn't answer. She knew very well that it had never been _just_ the man she'd wanted, but that life of adventure. Those two years she'd traveled with him she'd felt so alive, so free... Since coming here, her wings had been clipped, and she'd been living in a cage of responsibilities, constraints. And love. Torchwood, her parents, the children, a husband... Corin._..._

_Corin!_ She mentally whimpered the name. _What about him? What about ME and him? He's my husband, my love, my bondmate. I could NEVER turn my back on him and just leave. Nor the children. Tyler, Donna. No. NO!_

_And what if HE leaves?_ whispered the voice, malicious now. _You know he wants to. You know he's been as unhappy here in this cage as you. And he had nine hundred years of that life, not your paltry two!_

All she could do was whimper.

Corin's hand softly touched her shoulder, and she jumped. She'd thrown the mental barrier back up when she'd come up here, and hadn't heard him walk in. Suddenly unable to hold it in any longer, she began to sob, and he slid down beside her and drew her into his lap. He didn't need to *hear* it to know what was going on inside her mind. He knew whose face was behind her locked mental doors, after all.

All he could do was hold her, and so he did, for several long minutes, while she quietly wept, unnoticed tears streaking his own face.

"Beautiful Rose," he whispered when her sobs began to ease. "My strong, wonderful, courageous, lovely Rose. Who saved her father, and tamed a Dalek. Who marched into the cyberman stronghold, and fought off Satan himself. Who looked into the heart of the TARDIS and changed reality, and survived. Who shot herself from one universe to the next, a dozen times over, and corrected an entire timeline. And now you're afraid of a reflection in a mirror?"

She couldn't help it; she chuckled, then stopped before the chuckle made good its threat to change back into tears. "It's what the reflection is showing of ME that scares me," she whispered back. That was as close as she could get to the truth, here between them.

He considered for a bit. "As close as we've become – closer than any two people have ever been – he's always been there between us." She stiffened, and then, accepting the truth, relaxed and nodded against his neck. He went on, "Maybe this is the only way to get him out of there. To finish it, once and for all, no matter which way it ends up." He paused for a long moment. "We can't go on like this. We've got to see it through." He held her even closer. "Just remember one thing, always. I love you. And I always will, no matter what. _No matter what._"

She turned sideways and slipped her arms around him. "I love you, too, Corin. I know you know that. You've seen it in my mind, felt it with my own heart. I'll always love you, too." She stopped again, pressing her face into his shoulder to squash the tears.

_Do you want to leave?_ She wanted so badly to ask him, to hear his reassurances. But she couldn't, first because she was so deathly afraid of his answer, and second because she knew he'd turn the question back to her, and she was even more afraid of her own.

Finally, she sighed, and released him a little. "OK. This has to happen. Let's get it over with. I... " She took a deep breath, and pulled back to look into the face of her beloved. "I've done enough time travel, and reality hopping, as you just reminded me, to know that... that I've got to take this on faith, that those words in your journal really do tell what's going to happen here tonight. I don't see how, but... I've just got to take it on faith."

He kissed her, then, tenderly, trying to express everything he felt with that one embrace, knowing it could never be enough, but knowing that she knew, anyway, and knowing she was giving him the same.

They unwrapped themselves, and stood up, then he stopped her again. "One last thing. Names have power. Use his true name, Rose. That will reach him, if nothing else does."

But she shook her head. "I can barely even pronounce it in English, let alone give it the Gallifreyan meaning!"

He touched her temple with a caressing finger. "I'll give it to you. Just echo it on."

Finally, she nodded. "OK." They turned, and went slowly back down to the hall.

^..^

John, Pete and Jackie were sitting on the stairs again, out of the way. As Rose went by, Jackie suddenly stood up and grabbed her arm. "Rose. I can't let you do this. Please, darling. Please think about what you're doing. Don't bring him here!" She glared at Corin, as he tried to stop her. "Don't think I don't know what's going on, what she went through, what she's _still_ going through! Please, darling, don't do this!"

Rose shook her head, tears threatening again. "Mum. I... I have to. I'm not bringing him here, he's _already_ here, in the mirrors. What we're doing is getting him out. If we don't, he'll always be there, _always,_ every time we look in the mirror, for the rest of our lives! Do you want that?"

Jackie stood mute, unwilling to answer, simply in misery for her beloved daughter's sake. Rose reached out then, and hugged her Mum tightly for a moment. "I have to do this, Mum. I have to see it through, and finish it, no matter what happens. Please don't make it any harder." Then she let go and quickly whirled away, starting towards the bottom of the steps before the tears came again.

Corin showed Rose the hair rope, helping her step carefully over it, then seated her on the chair in front of her version of the table, just slightly to one side of the center line between the mirrors, and took up his own station standing just behind her, slightly further to the side so as not to impede the reflections bouncing back and forth.

Jenny stepped over to the TARDIS door and up to the console, flicking a switch. A soft, golden TARDIS glow began to trickle up from the hair rope, diffusing slowly through the circle. Jenny came back out and looked around, considering. "Something's still missing," she murmured. "Ah!" She softly called back inside the TARDIS. "The Ood Lament, please, very softly." And the eerie, haunting melody that had been sung by the captive Ood began to thread through the air.

Corin shivered, catching Jenny's eye. "Why?"

She sighed. "It's what he plays when he's in one of those black moods." Now it would help call him home.

Jenny went quietly to stand by the mirror behind Rose, stepping carefully outside the circle. She nodded at Corin. Everything was ready. It was time.

Corin turned back to Rose and stood behind her, hands lightly on her shoulders, then leaned over to kiss her temple quickly. "Ready?" She nodded, and he stood straight again.

Jenny said softly, "Close your eyes, both of you, and try to relax. Rose, think back to when you were traveling with the Doctor, to a time when you were separated, and called to him. Hold onto that moment, that feeling." She nodded to John, and they both lifted off the mirror coverings at the same moment. There was a tiny flash from the paradox glow, then it deepened slightly, seeming to coagulate first in front of the two mirrors, and then in the center of the circle. "Now open your eyes. Don't turn around, just keep looking in your own mirror."

Corin, as agreed, kept his own eyes closed, not wanting to distract Rose from what she had to do. She took another deep, steadying breath, and slowly opened her eyes – and gasped. She managed not to flinch, or look around. The Doctor's reflection was directly behind her, almost close enough to touch her and Corin, clearer even than he had been earlier upstairs.

To distract herself, she took a moment to study this new Doctor. He wasn't quite as tall as Corin, but a bit heavier, more muscled. Athletic. His casual jeans and rugby shirt looked utterly natural, as much a part of him as the old Doctor's brown pinstripe had been. _Where did he manage to find a shirt that exactly matched his new eyes? A bit vain, this one._ The thought distracted her, and she was able to distance herself just that tiny crucial bit, electing not to notice the tear tracks on his face, or his continued intense stare.

She found she was clutching the edge of the dressing table with both hands, the wood biting into her palms. Unable to tear her eyes from his, she forced herself to take several deep, steadying breaths, and then relax her hands a bit, while still holding on to the table for support.

_*Corin?*_ In response to her signal, he put the Doctor's true name into her mind, and she let it echo there for several breaths, experiencing again the sound of wind and wildfire and – very faintly now – the the Doctor's eight-year-old self giggling with delight. Then she did her best to send the sounds toward the Doctor's reflection with her mind, whispering the audible syllables of the name as best she could. She felt Corin help her, silently lending her his mindskills to fling the message out as far as they could, sending it into the mirror, into the void. As the echoes of the name faded within her mind, she turned to English, repeating over and over her old mantra, calling with her mind and whispering it aloud. *_Find me, Doctor. Find me!*_


	7. Slivers - Seeking

**Slivers - Seeking**

Most of the zillions of slivers were *moving* now, unthinkingly seeking the face, or the name. Following the portrait, or the call. _Find me, Doctor. Find me..._

They began bumping into each other as they sought the same channels through time and space, automatically coalescing as they did. Some ghost of consciousness began seeping into the largest resulting clumps of slivers, and they began to put the clues together, matching the call, the voice, the name. _Rose..._

A larger clump began to coalesce near the genesis of the portrait, gaining a bit more ability to think. It – he – stared at the portrait across the hall from his window, feeling that spark of recognition again at both the man and the woman. When an older man came through and glanced at him, he thought he might know him, too, but then he automatically _flicked_ away when he caught the man's eyes.

He _flicked_ to another window, seeing another familiar face, a pretty, middle-aged blonde woman. She screamed at him, though, and he _flicked_ away again.

Then, finally, after an eternity of searching, he found her. And knew her. _Rose..._ He stopped, finally able to control the flicking for just a moment, and stared. And she saw him, and screamed too. Still, he stayed.

And then the man in the portrait came into view beside her, and he knew him, too. He was, somehow, himself. A name came to him, bringing a ghost of a memory of a sound... He tried, desperately, to call to the man. "Help me!" Almost before he could get out the name, he _flicked_ away yet again, unable to hold himself there any longer.

_flick flick flick flick flick flick __flick flick flick flick flick flick __flick flick flick flick flick flick __flick flick flick _

Then, suddenly, every single sliver *stopped* at the same instant, as an impossibly distant clarion call swept through them. It latched onto each individual sliver, magnetizing them and placing an unbreakable compulsion over each tiny atom of consciousness, whirling them around and drawing them inexorably towards a single point. A room. A moment. A figure, sitting in a chair. From a million miles away, a billion years, the beacon was lit, calling them, swiftly and surely, to that point.

The slivers *turned* as one, and flung themselves towards the beacon.


	8. The Mirror Crack'd

**The Mirror Crack'd**

Rose continued staring fixedly at the Doctor's reflection in her dressing table mirror, murmuring her mantra over and over. *_Find me, Doctor. Find me...*_ She whispered his true name again and again, trying with all her might to send her message into the glass, into the void, and bring him home again. All her internal walls were down, and the longing she'd suppressed for so long for the missing Time Lord appearing behind her shoulder and the life he promised came pouring out of its hiding place deep within her heart, out through her eyes with her tears, as if longing alone could shatter the glass that kept them apart, and the barriers of time, space, and reality itself with it.

Corin kept his eyes closed, suppressing his own feelings, and simply giving Rose all his mental support. The other four occupants of the hall were holding their breath, staring unbelievingly at the open space behind the two, as Jenny's next prediction began to come true. "I think that as the bits of him gather and coalesce, he'll actually start to materialize physically _between_ the two mirrors. That's why we need the paradox field." The golden glow of the paradox field slowly swirled and concentrated in one spot, taking on the Doctor's outline, then beginning to fill in the space inside, seeming to pulse and flow in time with the eerie Ood Lament.

Slowly, slowly, he appeared, clearer and clearer, as finer details and colors seemed to come into focus like a camera lens. Oblivious to everything else, he stared into the mirror at Rose's face, as if it were truly the only thing in existence in the cosmos. The only thing that mattered.

And then the Doctor moved, bringing up one hand and stretching it out towards Rose, all his shattered longing and despair summed up in that one, hopeless gesture.

"Take his hand," whispered Jenny.

Corin opened his eyes, and he and Rose both turned, somehow unsurprised to see his shadowy form there, still half transparent, like he had appeared at first in his message on the beach at Bad Wolf Bay. Rose gripped the back of the chair with one hand and shakily rose to her feet, facing him. Staring directly into his eyes for the first time since he'd left her, she whispered brokenly, "Doctor..." Then she reached for his outstretched hand...

...but they passed through each other like mist. Rose sobbed, and shook her head. "Doctor..."

"Keep calling," came Jenny's soft prompt.

She continued sobbing softly. Corin, unable to stand his wife's torment any longer, pulled her back and gently pushed her back down into the chair, then turned back to face the Doctor squarely himself, blocking the Time Lord's view of Rose and catching his eyes with his own instead. He withdrew his mind from Rose's, as well, and began sending his message out directly, calling his – and the Doctor's – true name over and over.

_*Come on, you bastard. Come out of hiding and face me. Stop this torment and let's have this out, right here, right now. Come ON!*_ His long-held anger at his former self, tinged as it was with self-loathing for what he used to be, and fear at what he might become again, came spilling out. *_Find ME, Doctor. Find yourself. Come on!*_

In answer, the Doctor's form continued to get darker and more opaque, as if actual molecules were being transported in one by one, filling in each miniscule gap, as the fractured slivers of Doctor answered the call and found the beacon by the thousands. His eyes darkened with recognition as he stared at his human twin, recognition tinged with pain, sorrow, and anger – and a hundred other fleeting emotions Corin didn't care to try to name.

The Doctor's hand had dropped when Rose was pulled away. He raised it again, now, to Corin, and his lips moved again, soundlessly whispering "Help me."

Corin reached out, tentatively, not quite reaching the Doctor's hand. He stretched out his mind, instead, searching for the Doctor's.

And finally found it, as the paradox sparkles seemed to give a final, flashing pulse. They grabbed hold of each other's minds and _pulled._

Corin reached out then, and his hand met solid flesh.

And Jenny sprang the trap.


	9. Jagged Edges

**Jagged Edges**

The moment she saw their hands meet, Jenny stabbed the remote control button she'd put in her pocket, starting the chain reaction she'd so carefully set up after three long agonizing weeks (not days, as she had told Corin) of frantically searching for the means of getting her Dad out of the mirrors.

First, the paradox field dropped. The coalescing cloud of glowing particles instantly contracted into the Doctor with a sucking hiss followed by a moment of complete silence, as though all the sound had been sucked in, too. Then the two dressing table mirrors shattered with twin sharp silver whines, sending a shock wave through the room and reverberating off the walls. The millions of tiny shards of glass streaked through the air towards the Doctor from both sides, turning to miniscule shafts of brilliant white as they burned from the air's friction, enveloping him in a sheet of blinding light.

Then, a heartbeat later, the second half of Jenny's one-two punch landed. Out through the TARDIS doors came a shaft of pure Vortex energy, striking the Doctor and turning the light enveloping him into the familiar sparkling gold. It lay on his skin, recreating every cell from the pure energy that had formed from the twin reflections, then sank deep inside, repairing him as it went, regenerating the Doctor.

Rose watched from the side, eyes wide in wonder – which turned to horror as the Vortex energy flowed from the Doctor's arm onto Corin through their still-clasped hands, snaking around his waist and chest. "NOOO!" she cried, and lunged out of her chair towards him, flinging her arms around him and pulling him away from the Doctor. As their hands separated, the line was cut, and the Vortex energy snapped back to the Doctor – most of it. A few tiny tendrils continued on and wrapped themselves unnoticed around both Corin and Rose, before they faded away to nothing.

Corin turned and wrapped his arms tightly around Rose, holding the most precious thing in the universe, making sure she was safe, unharmed. He brushed her hair back with both hands, searching her eyes as she searched his, seeking and giving reassurance that they were both OK. He didn't dare try to reach for her mind; everything was much too raw and immediate. He settled for pulling her in again, tightly, feeling her arms wrapped around his waist still, and burying his face in her hair for a long moment, before they both turned back to the Doctor.

^..^

The Doctor slowly came to, finding himself sprawled on a hard tile floor, moonlight streaming from one direction, and the familiar glow from inside the TARDIS from the other. He lay there, unable to clear his head – he had a splitting headache, and couldn't seem to string two thoughts together. Where the hell was he, and how had he gotten there? All his memory was giving him was vague, confusing images of windows – millions, billions of windows, and the sense of urgently, desperately searching for something. Nothing else. Nothing made any sense at all.

He tried to move his arms, thinking he might sit up, and his muscles screamed in protest. _I know that feeling_ he suddenly thought. _I've regenerated._ He looked closely at his hands and forearms. _Nope. Still the same. Didn't change. That's good._ He was rather fond of this body, this self. But then, he usually liked whoever he was, and never really did want to regenerate.

Suddenly, he remembered the last time he'd regenerated without changing, and that brought back other, seemingly much more recent memories – and the images of searching through windows, again. For his twin. For Rose. _Rose_.

Suddenly, Jenny was there, pulling him, helping him sit up, exclaiming "Dad! Are you all right?"

He rubbed his face. "What happened?"

"You were in the mirrors. We got you out."

"Short. To the point. You're learning." His usual sharp-edged banter with her was a little strained. He closed his eyes again, trying to rub the headache away, then began looking around the room, trying to figure out where he was. He focused, suddenly, on the two people standing a short distance away. "Oh. Right. OK." His twin and Rose were wrapped around each other, staring at him, so obviously _together_ that he felt almost embarrassed to be there. Just as the thought crossed his mind, Rose dropped her eyes, looking unsure, and she stepped back and sat unsteadily on the chair behind her. _I don't want to think about what that might mean. Just don't even go there, Doctor._

He got painfully to his feet with Jenny's help. Looking around again, anywhere but at Rose or his twin, he took in the presence of another vaguely familiar man, and then Pete, and then Jackie, who was glaring at him. _Nothing new there._

Then suddenly he focused on the painting on the wall, and recent memories began to click into place. The Sontarans. The house. The painting. Realizing he was in the alternate universe. Running back to the TARDIS without thinking, forgetting Jenny, forgetting everything, just a vague plan to jump back to the day they'd arrived and intercept Rose, begging her for another chance. Only he'd missed. He'd arrived on the day of the wedding. Taking a page from the other time he'd been here, with Rose, he'd infiltrated the staff hired for the reception, with no real plan but to somehow get close enough to have a word. When he'd seen them dancing, though, so close, so obviously in love, he knew it was far, far too late.

Some things are fixed in time.

And hadn't that been what he'd been trying to give her, anyway, that day on the beach? A happy, normal, safe life with the man who was him, but better, who could _give_ her that life, when he himself never could?

Beaten, he'd returned to Jenny, only to walk into a miniature Sontaran uprising. When they'd grabbed him at gunpoint, dragged him upstairs, and used one of the devices they'd found in their wreckage to put him into the mirrors, he hadn't even struggled. _I'm so tired,_ he'd thought. _Just do what you're going to do and leave me. Might be nice not having to do anything, save anybody, _care_. Jenny can handle the TARDIS and herself. She'll probably be better off without me, anyway._

And now he was here, standing in the same room with them again, when they'd obviously just had a big hand in getting him out.

"Sorry... sorry for barging in." He spoke to his twin, not quite able to meet his eyes. "Thank you... for getting me out." He motioned to the TARDIS, noticing it behind his shoulder for the first time. "I'll just be... we should... "

"Oh, no you don't." Shocked, he realized the speaker was Rose herself. She stood up and met him head on. "Not this time." She shook her head. "You're not sneaking out the back door today." Her eyes slid sideways, as if realizing they had quite an audience. Then, motioning to the door closest to her, she said, "Doctor, may I speak with you in private, please?"

She didn't even glance at his twin. Her hand, on the back of the chair, was white.

The Doctor simply nodded, trapped. She turned and walked through the door, and he followed, closing it behind him.

She wasn't sure what she was doing. She wasn't sure about anything. All she knew was that he wasn't going to get away so easily. Not this time.

But she sure as hell wasn't going to have this conversation in front of everybody else, either, like the last time. Not even Corin. This was just between her and the Doctor.

The Doctor?

She turned away from the table – the closest door happened to be to the dining room – as she heard the door close behind him, and faced him. "Is it really you? You're the same Doctor I knew?"

He was looking at her solemnly, but then his mouth quirked. "The first thing I ever said to you was 'Run!' We met in the basement of your shop, running from the Autons, and then you helped me take care of the Nestene Consciousness with your gymnastics skills. – Shall I go on?"

"No. OK, you're you." She stared at him. So much to say, so much to ask. And it all boiled down to one word. "Why?"

He started to shake his head, to say it didn't matter now, but she overrode him, intense. "_Yes, it needs saying._ I need to hear it." She closed her mouth, suddenly, on the 'please'. She wasn't going to beg. She took a quick breath, not quite a sob. "And you owe me. Especially now."

He nodded, struck. He couldn't face her eyes, though, so he turned to pace to the fireplace, running a hand through his hair then putting it on the mantel, then he half-turned back towards Rose and talked to the safe, neutral, unaccusing sideboard instead. "First... Fear. I couldn't go through losing you again. I just couldn't face it." He glanced sideways at her to see if she understood, if he needed to explain, and she nodded, letting him off that hook. He took a deep breath and went on.

"Second... " He lifted his other hand from his pocket and gestured, helpless. "It was everything that happened on the Crucible. What Davros said. How I turned everyone into weapons, or killed them, directly or not. So many people have died because of me..." He shook his head. "I couldn't... I couldn't face that. I just ran away, away from everybody, before anything else happened to any of you." He paused, thinking, not liking what he saw. "I guess you could call number two cowardice."

He closed his eyes for a long moment, then suddenly swung back and stood in front of her, a pace away. "Third, I was trying to give you a good life, a happy life. A longer life, for certain. The kind of life I could _never_ give you, but _he_ could. The kind of life you have here." The longest pause yet, then he whispered, hoarsely, "I just wanted you to be happy. And alive."

She took a deep, shaky breath, and managed to keep her voice level. "But did you ever stop and think about asking me what _I_ wanted?"

He shook his head. "I knew what -" But she ran over him.

"Did you? Really? How do you know? Maybe I would have surprised you." _Maybe I would have surprised myself._ "But you never even gave me the chance to think it over. To choose for myself."

"You _did_ choose! You kissed _him!"_ Even now, years – decades – later, he was surprised at how much that hurt.

"Because you _forced_ that choice by not answering! You knew what you were doing! You'd already made the choice for me!"

Breathless, they both stopped, staring into each other's eyes, inches apart.

Suddenly, without thinking, he simply took her face in both his hands and kissed her. They way she'd kissed his twin – the kiss that still haunted his sleepless nights. He poured all his tortured longing into that embrace, trying to tell her every thought, every desire, he'd kept to himself all those years.

A hundred startled heartbeats later, they both realized at the same time that she wasn't kissing him back.

He slowed to a standstill, pulling back just far enough that their lips were a whisper apart, not wanting to open his eyes and see the look in hers.

She put her hands high up on his chest and gently pushed him away, stepping back as she did. "The time for that was five years ago. It's too late now. It's far too late," she whispered, realizing it even as she spoke.

His hands dropped to his sides. He screwed his eyes even tighter shut against the despair washing over him, then simply nodded, beaten. Fighting to get himself under control, he took a deep breath, then opened his eyes and slowly raised his head to look at her.

And stopped, staring wide-eyed at her hands.

She'd unconsciously cupped her hands at her chest when she stepped back, as if to protect her heart. She looked down to see what he was staring at, and froze too.

Her hands were glowing.

She lowered them slightly, and opened them out. A small, wispy ball of Vortex energy lay between her cupped palms.

"Bad Wolf," he whispered.


	10. Refractions

**Refractions**

Rose was the Bad Wolf. Still. She could feel it, deep, deep inside of her, so far buried that she'd forgotten it, forgotten what it felt like. But it was still there, rising to the whispered call of the Vortex energy that had sought it out. It lay in her hands now, waiting. Waiting for her to take it and remake her world, as she had done before.

She could do it. With a wave, with a thought, she could rewind time, take them all back to Bad Wolf Bay and turn the other way. _Turn left. Kiss the other Doctor. Make him stay. Make him take me._

Or further. She could go back to the Crucible and change things there, preventing all those terrible things that had wounded her beloved Doctor so badly, that had burned him to the bone. Then he wouldn't have made the choice he did.

She could even keep the TARDIS from being flushed out with Donna, preventing the entire human-Time Lord metacrisis that had eventually caused Donna to be mind-wiped. That had caused Corin to be 'born in battle, full of blood and anger and revenge.'

_Corin..._

But if he had never even been born, then she wouldn't ever have had to choose between them, then or now. She could do it. She could remake anything, change everything, make it so she could go on with the Doctor forever.

She could even possibly change whatever it was that happened after that, that scarred the Doctor so badly and made him regenerate, so he would keep the face, the person, she'd fallen in love with, at least a little while longer.

She could do all that and more.

The trouble was, she didn't want to.

She raised her eyes, looking at the Doctor, seeing in his own eyes the knowledge of what she could do. And the hope that she would.

She shook her head, sadly. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

Seeing the hope die in his eyes was an arrow to her own heart, but not enough to change her mind. But there was still something she _could_ do, she realized. She stepped forward and raised her hands before her lips, flattening her palms. Gently, so gently, she blew the Vortex energy off her palms and into his face, where he involuntarily breathed it in. "Be healed, Doctor. No more mourning, no more sorrow. Let go of the past. Be free and happy again."

She stepped back, watching him for a moment, seeing his eyes clear, knowing that the energy was healing his wounded hearts. Then she turned, and went to find her bondmate.

^..^

She found Corin in the nursery, where it had been his turn to take refuge after seeing the door close behind his wife and his former self. He couldn't stay there another second, with everyone else's eyes boring holes in his back. He'd checked on the boys, sound asleep in their shared room, and then came in to find baby Donna fretting in her crib. He picked her up and cradled her against his shoulder, soothing her back to sleep, softly crooning his favorite lullaby (which he was always careful never to sing in Rose's hearing). This night the first words of the old Beatles tune resonated with a particularly painful eeriness.

_Once there was a way to get back homeward  
Once there was a way to get back home  
Sleep little darling do not cry  
And I will sing a lullaby  
Golden slumber in your eyes  
Smiles await you when you rise  
Sleep little darling do not cry  
And I will sing a lullaby _

His voice trailed into silence, as the next lines from the album echoed in his mind, and he wondered fearfully how prophetic they'd turn out to be this night.

_Boy, you're gonna carry that weight  
Carry that weight a long time._

He stood with Donna at the window, staring out up at the stars. The stars. He'd never see them again, except like this, from deep within Earth's atmosphere. That didn't bother him (much), usually. But now... if he lost Rose... There would be nothing left. Nothing but this tiny, precious bundle in his arms, and his son sleeping in the next room. He didn't know if they would be enough to fill the thousandth bit of the huge, aching hole that would be punched in his one heart, though. He didn't know how he'd ever make it through one day without her. He sent a silent, formless plea up into the heavens. _Please... Please..._

"Please don't leave." At first, he thought it was his own thoughts, but then he realized it had been Rose herself, whispering from the doorway behind him. He turned, half fearful he'd imagined it, and she saw the tear tracks on his face.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said huskily. "Besides, I think that's my line."

She shook her head, her own tears starting, and then came across the room and into his free arm. "I'm not going anywhere, either."

They stood together for an age, fighting tears, Corin not quite believing it. She sensed it, somehow, and drew back slightly, then gently took Donna from him and laid her back in her crib, tucking in the blanket and sussing her quiet. Then she turned back, but when he went to put his arms around her she intercepted them and brought his hands to her own face, cupping it the way he would when joining her mind. *_Please*_ she entreated him on their telepathic link. She wanted him to be sure, to see in her mind and her heart the entire truth.

He did so, tiptoeing in, viewing in her memory the scene that had just happened, drawing his breath sharply when the Doctor kissed her, but then the recognition of her instinctive reaction hit him as it had her. He followed her thoughts as she considered remaking the past, and felt her knowledge – it was never a decision to be made – that she wasn't going to change anything. Drawing back slightly, he decided he approved of her healing the Doctor – he could be generous, now, too.

Because she was his. Completely. Irrevocably. Forever. With no more doubts or regrets, ever.


	11. Crystal Bay

**Crystal Bay**

The following morning found the Tyler-Gallifrey clan having their usual lingering Sunday brunch feast, their favorite part of any week. (Pete – sensing that things weren't quite finished the night before after Rose had brushed by him, following his silent finger pointing upstairs after Corin – had invited the travelers from the future to spend the night. John had been ensconced in the guest bedroom, while Jenny and the Doctor elected to stay in the TARDIS – first moving it back outside to the beech copse and out of the hall.) In deference to the expanded numbers, the brunch had been moved to the larger dining room, but the kids still reigned supreme, deciding that morning on their favorite: dinner plate-sized flat dutch pancakes with apples, blueberries _and_ bacon cooked right in, smothered in molasses treacle.

Shortly before, as Corin and Rose made their way down the stairs with their two, they had run into the Doctor skulking in the hall, gazing at their portrait again, obviously waiting for them. He came to the bottom of the steps, watching Rose descend, then gave her a slight but courtly bow. Rising again, he said, simply, "Thank you." Her "cure" had worked. She gave him a soft, compassionate smile in return, and he turned to Corin, meeting his eyes fully for the first time since he'd burst out of the mirrors.

"I owe you an apology," he said bluntly. "For what I did before."

Corin was surprised. "What, did you think you forced me to stay here? I _saw_ what was coming, and I grabbed my chance!" bobbing his head towards Rose, beside him. "You didn't have to raise the gangplank, I was jumping ship anyway!"

"Still. I was rude and demanding, and I apologize."

"So what else is new?" Corin said wryly, one eyebrow raised, but he was smiling as he said it. "OK, apology accepted. Forget it. Besides, I wouldn't trade my life now for _anything._" He grinned further, nodding to the boy he was carrying, changing the subject. "This is Tyler, and that," nodding towards the baby in her mother's arms "is Donna."

"Hello, Tyler." The Doctor smiled at the serious-looking four-year-old, whose eyes grew even rounder, and he turned and buried his head in his father's neck, suddenly shy.

"All right," Corin laughed. He set the boy down on the floor and swatted his behind towards the kitchen. "Go find Tony." And off Tyler sped to find his best friend.

The Doctor smiled after him, then turned back to Corin, full of memories. "You know, I had more fun being you – being the me that you came from – than I think I'd ever had before. And maybe since. I didn't want to go."

"What happened?" He meant more than just the regeneration, and the Doctor knew it. He opened his mouth to say it didn't matter, then realized that in a way, it did – that Corin deserved to know how "his" life had ended.

He took a breath – and then released it, not sure where to begin, how far to condense it. Finally, he began. "The Master came back again. I don't know how. And somehow he broke the time lock, and brought out the Council. And they were actually still going to go through with it."

Corin's eyes were huge. "The End of Time?" he whispered, aghast.

The Doctor nodded. "I had to send them back. I had to send them _all_ back," he added significantly. He looked at Corin, remembered pain etched in his eyes, and saw that Corin understood who he meant, and gasped. Corin reached out his hand, then, and put it on the Doctor's shoulder, aware that, barring the handclasp that pulled him from the mirrors, this was the first time either one of them had actually touched the other.

"And then?" he asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "A lethal dose of radiation." No need for any details. He didn't say how he'd railed against taking the radiation to save Donna's grandfather, because he'd known the whole time that he was going to do it anyway.

"How long after we parted?"

"Not long." He grimaced, ruefully. "It figures. The most fun I had was packed into the shortest life." Wanting to veer away from the memories – still uncomfortable, even though Rose had freed him from the worst heartache the night before – he turned back to Rose and gave her a slow, conspiratorial smile. "And you know, you had a whole lot to do with that. I don't just mean that we had a lot of fun traveling. I don't know if he," jabbing a thumb at Corin, "ever explained it to you, but when a Time Lord regenerates, the person he becomes is _greatly_ influenced by what he's just been through. And I'd just been traveling with you, when I regenerated into the face he wears. In a very real way, Rose Tyler, I was – he is – what you made me."

"Really?" Rose raised her eyebrows high, and looked sideways at her husband, who grinned and nodded, confirming it. She turned back to the Doctor and grinned proudly. "_Damn_, I do good work."

Both men laughed. "Yeah, you do," they said together.

^..^

A short time later, when they were all seated around the dining table, the Doctor turned to Corin again. "I have a confession. I did a small act of vandalism this morning. I hope you can forgive me." But he was grinning as he said it. Corin simply raised his eyebrows. "I dug up the TARDIS coral. Jenny told me you said it wasn't growing. She figured it out, actually – she's not just a Time Lord, she's turning into a Coral Singer. Turns out what you need is some gallinium for the internal structure."

Corin grimaced. "I don't suppose you happen to have some on the TARDIS?"

Jenny put in, "Only my little coin, sorry. That's not enough."

"Well, then. So much for that."

The Doctor smiled. "Not necessarily. It just so happens that I think I may know where we might be able to get our hands on some."

Now Corin was really puzzled. "But it only occurs on Gallifrey!"

The Doctor's smile got broader. "Exactly."

Corin's jaw dropped, as did several others around the table. "Does it even exist in this universe?" he asked, a little breathlessly.

"I don't know, it's too far away for the TARDIS sensors to pick up the planet. The constellation does, though – and it won't be locked here. And even... even if all we do is hang in space for a few minutes and see the twin suns again, it would be worth the trip." He paused, and then said quietly, "I want to go home."

Rose asked, "Is that an invitation?"

"Yes – to all of you. Everyone." He turned to Pete and Jackie. "I promise, no matter how long we're actually gone, we'll have you back here ten minutes after we leave." He bobbed his head towards Jenny, and grinned directly at Jackie. "She really is that good – much better than I ever was." He raised his eyebrows, looking around the table. "Well?"

"Turn down a trip to space, maybe even another planet?" Pete laughed. "When do we leave?"

"Hold on," said Rose. "Is it safe to bring the kids – and the baby – on the TARDIS? I remember how bumpy those rides were! I think I _still_ have bruises!"

"With seven people flying, the ride will be _much_ smoother. Remember the last time? And we won't be towing a planet, either. And for the baby – do you have one of those seats for the car? We can tie that down securely." And it was settled.

^..^

An hour or two later the ten intrepid astronauts piled into the TARDIS. Jackie and Rose brought in not only Donna's infant seat, but the booster seats for the boys, as well, and watched the men secure them to the grating against the wall opposite the Captain's chair.

Jackie fixed the Doctor with a stare. "You going to let me help, this time?" He laughed and pointed her to one of the six sides (with only a single control to worry about), saying "just keep that level!" He waved Corin and Jenny to the even sides around from the main screen, distributing the expertise, and when Rose just smiled and sat in the Captain's chair, put Pete and John in the two remaining spaces.

The Doctor grinned at everyone. "We're taking this in two jumps. First stop is in space, just outside the constellation, to take final readings. Ready?" He threw the switch and worked a lever, and they took off. The flight was indeed infinitely smoother this time without a planet in tow. Only a few moments passed before the Doctor announced breathlessly, "We're there!" and nodded to the Corin.

As Jenny took his place at the screen, the Doctor took a deep breath and walked slowly to the door, Corin a pace behind. He placed his palm lightly on the door for a moment, almost afraid to open it, then swiftly snatched it wide. Corin opened the other door beside him, and they both gasped at the achingly familiar sight.

Stretched across the space before them lay the awe-inspiring swirls and eddies of the Porterion Nebula, the dust and plasma cloud glowing in all the mind-bending hues of the rainbow, from purple to red and back again. Within the swirls were handfuls of stars already formed, flung across the sky like a giant's marbles, teasing the proto-stars still to be born with their dancing rays. And there, dead center, were the Twin Suns of Galloran and Gallissa, endlessly circling each other in their cosmic dance. Corin and the Doctor stared wide-eyed, drinking in the sight they thought they'd never see again save in dreams.

They would have stood gazing forever, but Jenny's voice came triumphantly from behind. "It's there!" They didn't have to ask what. With one reverent, long, last look, the two men silently closed the doors and returned to the console, nodding at the pilot to proceed. A few sways and bumps later, she looked up again and smiled, waving them back to the door.

The Doctor's hands were visibly shaking this time, as he slowly reached for the latch. Again, he hesitated, then swung the door wide. Fresh air flooded the console room as a prying wind swept inside, bringing tantalizing odors of woody, growing things, overlaid with a salty, metallic tang that spoke of a nearby sea.

Eyes huge, tears already starting, the Doctor and Corin silently stepped out onto the soil of Gallifrey.

Of Home.

As the others filed out behind them, the two Time Lords walked into the knee-high red grass and found themselves standing atop a rocky cliff, overlooking a large inlet. Distantly, beyond the tumbled teeth guarding the entrance to the bay, huge waves could be heard crashing against the rugged shore, while beneath their feet the tamed remains of those same waves lapped gently over blue diamond sands. Overhead, the sky arched tawny gold from horizon to horizon, cloud-free.

"Oh. My. God." whispered Jackie. "We're actually on another planet. I'm standing on _another planet!"_

Corin turned to grin at her, then his jaw dropped as he saw what was behind the TARDIS. His eyes traveled up, and UP, and he almost fell over backwards as he laughed with incredulous delight. "Rose!" he cried, pointed back and UP. "THAT... is a corin tree!"

The others spun to see, and gasped in unison. The corin climbed skyward, reaching over three hundred feet in the air, and then gracefully poured its long leafy vines down again to the ground. The flashing leaves flung silver and gold lights in every direction, as the breeze tossed them around, reflecting sun and sky to the watchers below.

"That's not just a corin," came the Doctor's reverential voice. "That's a great-great-grandfather corin." He walked over to where the vines were just brushing the grass, silver amid the red, and reached out, gently grasping handfuls of vines and letting them trail through his fingers. He walked further in towards the massive trunk, gazing up into the canopy.

Corin, a step behind, spied something else: a different vine growing up the trunk and spreading through the branches, one with small pink trumpet-shaped flowers. He reached up and grabbed a long switch, pulling and pinching it free. With three quick twists, he'd looped it around, and secured the ends, then he turned and placed it almost reverently on Rose's head. "I told you they looked like bougainvillea," he said, reminding her of her bridal garland five years before.

She gave him her supernova smile, and reached for a corin vine to make his garland. Then, nothing would do but for the boys to each have one, and soon the entire company was crowned in Gallifreyan finery, Corin imperiously declaring it to be a planetary holiday. Tony and Tyler had been briefly awed into silence by the topsy-turvy colors of the world around them – they didn't quite grasp the idea of another planet, especially Tyler, but something was certainly different, and their elders' reactions rubbed off, and soon they were chasing each other through the grass, playing tag and chasing the flutterwings.

John was staring around him in delight, eyes wide with wonder. "I'm actually on another planet!" he echoed Jackie. "Amazing! But where are the people?" he continued.

Jenny shook her head. "None in this universe. Eons ago, when the Time Lords had the ability to hop universes, they discovered that the planet didn't even exist in many of them, and in the ones where it did, it was uninhabited. No, the Time Lords only arose once, in all of creation."

Corin stepped towards the cliff again. "Where _are_ we, anyway?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know. Jenny, where did you put us down?"

"Um... it was the western edge of the largest continent, I think, about halfway up the side."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Wild Endeavor?" he said, naming the continent. He looked east. "OK, then those are the Mountains of Solace and Solitude, and _that_," pointing to the highest peak, "is Mount Hope."

Corin was looking the other way. "Those look like the Singing Rocks, though I can't hear anything," he commented, pointing to the pieces of cliff broken away at the mouth of the bay.

"Too far away," answered the Doctor. "You're right, though. Which means that _this_..." sweeping his arm across the inlet, "is Crystal Bay!" They finished the sentence together, grinning.

The Doctor pointed down at the cliffs beneath their feet. "And there's your gallinium!" Sure enough, there was a large, visible vein of blue rock running parallel to the sand, a few feet above it. He nipped inside the TARDIS in search of some containers, while Corin and the boys climbed down to the sand, the others following. While Corin and John gathered up the blue rocks that had fallen free of the cliff, piling them in a clearing, the others went exploring along the shoreline. "Watch out for toepinchers!" Corin called after them.

"Whaaaaat?" came the reply.

"Just think of bright blue lobsters, about that long," holding his fingers up about 4 inches apart. "Holler if you find some, though – they're good eating!"

The Doctor came back with a rope bucket, tossing it down and pulling it up filled about thirty times before declaring it enough. Then he whistled down to Corin. "Fishnet! F or N?"

"N."

"N it is." and he went to empty out the N compartment under the control room deck. Coming back with a throw-net and several baskets, he slipped off his overcoat, then climbed down the cliff and out onto the rocks in the water, and set about catching dinner, throwing the net out in a wide, graceful sweep and reeling it in, again and again. Corin remembered, then, where the net had come from; the months spent in Java after Krakatoa had exploded (despite his attempts to cap it), living with the fishermen and trying to recapture some of the simple pleasures of life again. This Doctor seemed to be better built for the task of casting the net; his graceful, muscular body seemed more at home on the rocks – or perhaps a playing field – than Corin's own still-skinny frame.

Rather than joining in any of the various activities, he decided to simply sit on the rocks and live in the moment, watching everyone else and breathing the air of home. He turned his face to the sun for a few minutes and let it warm his soul, trying to store enough to last a lifetime.

The boys' shouts caught his attention, and he opened his eyes again to watch them clamber out onto the rocks to the Doctor, Pete coming along behind to keep them safe. The Doctor turned and grinned at them, reaching out to help them up. He let them "help" him with the net, letting seven-year-old Tony try to toss it (he was way too small, and gratefully gave it back after just one go). Then he returned to his rhythm of casting and retrieving, bringing the net up and letting the boys discover each catch, teaching them about the plants and animals they found.

Corin blinked, struck suddenly by the metaphor before him for the Doctor's entire life. Casting his net into the flow of time, again and again, seeing what he could catch, fixing what needed fixing and tossing it back, saving the best, sharing his discoveries and adventures with whomever happened to be alongside. _The only thing missing is the running._

He smiled to himself, and went back to simply watching.

Again and again, the Doctor cast his net into the crystal blue waters of the bay.

Again and again, pulling it back in to discover what it held.

Again and again, turning to the boys with that delighted, infectious grin.

Again and again, throughout the long Gallifreyan afternoon.

Again and again, under the tawny sky.


	12. The Parting Glass

**The Parting Glass**

_So fill to me the parting glass  
Good night, and joy be with you all  
– Irish folk song_

The big blue wooden box stood again in the garden of the eleventh Lord Gallifrey, three weeks (in real time) after it had first landed there in Pete's World. He didn't want to relive the three weeks he and Jenny had spent looking for the solution to the crisis, so she and the Doctor were dropping him off (about an hour after they had left for the past) before they returned to their three-minute departure window.

The final goodbyes between the various groups had been short, both by necessity and desire. Necessity because they'd returned very late Sunday evening, rather than the promised ten minutes after they left, to avoid messing up everyone's circadian rhythms since they had spent most of a day on Gallifrey. Desire because nobody wanted to drag them out. Everything that needed saying had already been said this time, and the word "forever" kept looming over all their shoulders. "Although that word tends to lose it's meaning at times around yonder box," mused Corin.

The Doctor grinned. "It certainly does. I've lost count... Anyway. I'll be checking your journal up ahead before we go back through the rabbit hole. If you _ever_ need me for anything, just put the date and time on that page." Corin nodded, and the two Time Lords shook hands one last time, able finally to part as friends.

Now John was opening the journal in its wooden box again, for the final check, and he smiled a little wistfully at the cheerfully blank page. "Ah, well, all good things must end, I suppose."

"I heard what you told Rose back there," the Doctor said. "'It's a very long journal.' How long is it?"

John's wistful look became even more sorrowful, as he asked in reply, "You can't do anything about cancer, can you?"

"No." came the quiet reply. "Him or her?"

"Her. She battled it for several years, an especially pernicious variation. It kept metastasizing and attacking different organs, almost as if it were alive. When it finally reached her brain..." He shook his head. "Two weeks after their sixty-third wedding anniversary, the family story goes, he woke up in the middle of the night to check on her, as he always did, and found that she'd... passed on. He got out the bottle of medicines he'd squirreled away – he'd stolen a single pill out of every bottle that had come in the door during the last rounds – and swallowed every one. Then he lay down beside her again. They found them the next morning."

The trio stood silently for a long moment, paying tribute to an eternal love. The Doctor murmured wonderingly, "Sixty-three years..."

"They had a very long time together, didn't they? They were famously devoted to each other. He used to introduce the two of them as 'Mr and Mrs Deliriously Happy.'"

Jenny put in, "I've got to ask. _Was_ he the first Lord Gallifrey?"

John burst out laughing, then leaned in with a delighted grin. "Nope. _She_ was. The title is passed to the eldest child of either sex in our line."

"What did she do?"

"Saved the Earth from an alien invasion, almost single-handedly."

The Doctor smiled, hugely satisfied. "Yup. That's Rose. Defender of the Earth." He reached out to shake John's hand for the last time, glancing down at the journal, still open in the latter's hand, as he did so.

And stopped. The cheerfully blank page was no longer blank.

Scrawled hastily across it, in shaky black letters, was a date, some sixty-three years after the Night of the Miracle - obviously the night of Corin's and Rose's deaths - and a final message from his twin, written as though with the blood of a broken heart. The Doctor caught his breath at the words, however, the contents so contrary to the setting: a final benediction from the man who knew him best, bestowing at last the freedom to continue living, as only the Doctor could.

_**Good bye,  
and good luck.**_

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_ (_December 2013) I initially ended this re-do the same way as the original story, and invited readers to vote on which version to stick with going forward. The result (at this point) is obvious: they liked the twin Roses and an unregeneratable Tenth Doctor better. So, with this round of slight rewrites, I've changed the ending of this one to tie it off, instead. _


End file.
